


a dream

by kxtsura (kiblum)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Please Don't Hate Me, accidental confessions, awkward adolescent boys, like it starts smut then degrades into mindless fluff, wet dreams, with plot points such as, you know if you read this after it was published, you'll have to forgive me for the metric assload of typos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:16:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2826341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiblum/pseuds/kxtsura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or what it takes for two boys to realize they're actually way into each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a dream

**Author's Note:**

> It's Christmas break but I decided to write something not Christmas. Go me. Sorry in advance for the shoddy porn, the shoddy prose, the shoddy everything, probably, but I wrote this in like a day in a fit of creativity inspired by this [post](http://99smuts.tumblr.com/post/102729712963/like-nobodys-watching-but-nobodys-watching) on tumblr. I hope you like this even if it's bad.
> 
> 2017 Update: Cleaned up the typos and fixed the punctuation.

There are hands on his bare chest, smooth aside from calloused fingertips, and breaths in his ear, quick and hard like running out of air. The man on top of Hajime leans down and kisses him. He can taste the man's tongue when it's inside his own mouth. They do it like this, clumsy with enthusiasm and rough when it gets down to it, for a long time. It's simultaneously invigorating and draining.

This whole thing has Hajime mortified; it's embarrassing how hard he is right now, just from kissing the other man, though it would be considerably more so if the other man isn't as affected by this. Hajime looks up to see brown eyes, lust-blown and beautiful, staring at him like he's a puzzle and a prize.

"Iwa-chan," the man—best friend, worst nightmare, amazing lover, Hajime doesn't know anymore—says, "I wanna suck your dick."

"Uh… okay," replies Hajime faintly, though what his body is saying is so much more than that. What his body's telling Tooru is _Yes, yes, do whatever you want, you can kill me and I'll feel grateful for it,_ and it's clear that Tooru knows this. It's clear that he knows he's got Hajime wound around his finger and he wants to use that knowledge to tease him, but also wants Hajime's dick in his mouth immediately.

Tooru's never been too patient though and after sucking a few more kisses into Hajime's collarbone just to drive him slightly insane, his mouth is on Hajime's dick in record-breaking time. Hajime feels him suck experimentally and he writhes and stammers Tooru's name like he's a devout.

"Mm… I like it when you say my name, Hajime." Tooru says before he descends on Hajime's cock in one go.

_Fuck_ and _Tooru_ is about all Hajime can think of or speak of right now; the brunet's mouth is so slick and hot that it's suffocatingly good. Hajime fights not to fuck into it, and loses. But Tooru's taking him like the champ he doesn't know he is and he's making the whole thing seem like it's easy. He bobs up and down Hajime's dick like it's nothing, doesn't even mess up the rhythm when Hajime bucks into him a little too hard. If anything, he whines like that felt amazing.

"T-Tooru, fuck, _fuck you,_ please, God," Hajime is incoherent and yet Tooru has the audacity to giggle. Hajime pulls harder at his fluffy hair but that backfires when Tooru slides off him with a wet pop.

"That's right, Hajime," Tooru says, voice ragged, as he reaches down for his own cock. Hajime feels like dying. "Say my name, say it when you c-come." He stutters when he thumbs the slit and then he sinks back down oh-so-naturally that it's infuriating.

This time is better, because when Tooru touches himself, he's vocal, and that sends vibrations up Hajime's cock, making it feel like it's going to burst. Tooru's going faster now, his mouth a red blur around Hajime's even redder dick, his hand around his dick pumping like mad.

Tooru moans something that sounds like Hajime's name as he comes, all while sucking and slurping Hajime's dick and God, does it drive him crazy to see Tooru work so fucking hard to please him, to hear Tooru's cries and moans of _Hajime, oh God, Hajime._

When he comes, it's while loudly groaning Tooru's name and into Tooru's willing mouth. Hajime barely remembers to cover his own with his hand, if only to quiet himself a bit.

That's also when his eyes snap open in real life. The digital clock perched on his nightstand reads 1:03 AM. His face is as red as the numbers. He feels the wet slide of his own come as it pools in his boxers, and fights back against the urge to gag.

Hajime has to change his boxers and sheets now, but he also distantly considers changing best friends, too—Oikawa's bothered him one time too many and maybe this dream is just the straw that'll break the camel's back. Except that even as he thinks that to himself, Hajime can't help but feel that not being friends with Oikawa would be _wrong_ , even more wrong than that godforsaken dream he just had.

"A dream," Hajime wheezes. He feels like he's run ten laps around the gym. "It was all just a dream."

He doesn't get to sleep until after he's jacked off though, and he feels ashamed in the morning for using _that_ fantasy of his as fuel.

  


* * *

  


To say that it's hard to meet Oikawa in the eyes next morning would be an understatement. In fact, it's like Hajime's running away from Oikawa's gaze with the way that he's acting.

The walk to school is painful. Oikawa's pestering Hajime about the latest instalment of his favorite science fiction book series and Hajime's blushing too hard for someone listening to a story about aliens blowing each other up on planets in faraway galaxies.

"Iwa-chan? Are you feeling alright? You're quite red," quips Oikawa, cupping Hajime's beet-red face with his hands, which, true to his dream, feel soft and smooth save for the volleyball-induced calluses at the fingertips. He shudders when Oikawa accidentally brushes his thumb along his dry lips.

"I-I'm fine. It's nothing, dumbass," stammers Hajime.

The gaze Oikawa fixes him, all clever eyes and a cool brown stare, is both piercing and arousing, and Hajime internally curses his body for reacting this way to the bright and beautiful bastard in front of him. "If you say so, Iwa-chan," Oikawa says breezily, but Hajime knows he isn't done with this topic yet. "Now come on, we're gonna be late for practice."

  


* * *

  


Torture is certainly one word to describe morning practice that day. It's hard enough for Hajime that he sees Oikawa running around, dripping with sweat yet looking far too pretty, but Hajime also hears him, breathing hard like he's had all the wind punched out of him. Or, his brain helpfully supplies, like Oikawa's been kissed—or maybe even _fucked,_ in the mouth or otherwise—breathless by a person who may or may not be him.

Oikawa seems to be in top form today. His serves are especially vicious, one in particular whizzing past Kunimi's head so fast that if it had hit him in the face, it would've probably broken his nose. Even Oikawa's sets are better than ever, done with a careless grace that Hajime finds enviable.

It's just unfortunate that Oikawa's fluid motions are so fucking _hot_ that it's distracting Hajime. He's so turned on that it's affecting his play. His serves are suffering, hitting the net too many times for it to be just bad luck. Worse than that, he's missing Oikawa's behind-the-back signals because he's too busy staring at the roundness of Oikawa's ass or the lean angles of his thighs. Hell, he ends up trying to do a first tempo quick when Oikawa signaled for a second tempo one. The whole thing would be funny if not for the angry scowl on their coach's face and the furious but aggrieved look on their advisor's.

"Iwaizumi," says Nobuteru-sensei, "are you sure you're feeling fine? You've been playing terribly today."

"I'm alright, coach," Hajime assures him. "I just slept kind of late last night, writing an essay." _And totally not having a filthy wet dream about his own captain sucking his dick, not at all,_ he mentally adds.

"Would it help if you sat out?"

"Yes, I think. Let me breathe for a moment."

Hajime makes a beeline for the bench, pointedly trying to avoid Oikawa's inquisitive looks. He drinks from his bottle so fast that he almost chokes on the water.

When he does return to the game, his play is even worse, so Nobuteru-sensei decides, with stern disappointment etched every wrinkle on his worn face, that Hajime should sit out the rest of the practice, lest he ruin the rhythm of the rest of the team.

Oikawa shoots him a worried glance every five seconds. Hajime tries not to feel too bad about it.

  


* * *

  


"Iwa-chan, you've been acting weird today," Oikawa sing-songs on their way to their next class. The voice he speaks with is light but beneath it, there's purpose. Hajime knows it's there. This is the voice Oikawa uses when he wants to wheedle information out of someone, but he is so not falling for it.

"I have not, dumbass," Hajime deflects easily, voice flat.

"Psh, do you really think I'm that easy to fool, Iwa-chan?" All the lightness in Oikawa's voice is stripped away now, the purpose underneath bare to see. It sounds like concern, the same brand of tough love Hajime always gives him.

"Do you maybe wanna talk about it?" Oikawa asks after Hajime gapes at him—and his sudden display of _care,_ of all things—for a few seconds.

"Not really, no."

"But why?" Oikawa whines pitifully, lengthening the word _why_ until he runs out of breath. One second of maturity before he goes back to being a fucking brat. That's got to be a world record. "Talk to me, Iwa-chan, please."

"I said _no,_ Shittykawa!"

"Fine!" Oikawa says, flicking his head to the side like the bitch he totally is. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date."

Hajime manages to speak through his surprise. "With who?"

Oikawa tuts. "That's _with whom,_ Iwa-chan, no wonder your grades are so low. Though if you're really asking, it's with Ishihara-san in class five."

Hajime tilts his head. "The one with red hair?"

"Yep, she's that one. She confessed to me yesterday." Oikawa grins dreamily, a slight flush in his cheeks. "Isn't she beautiful?"

He's not too sure how he feels about this. "Oh. Okay. Have fun."

"I will, Iwa-chan! Bye!"

Hajime's a little disappointed when Oikawa just leaves him with the brightest of smiles on his stupid gorgeous face. But still, Hajime has been through Oikawa's numerous dates and nothing _major_ has really come out of any, so he doesn't worry about it too much. And it's not like he'd ever get the guts to ask Oikawa out—what if he rejects him or something? Forget the time he cried over a beetle or that time he nearly drowned in a hot spring; getting turned down by Oikawa—now that would be embarrassing.

Hajime ought to just bear it like this and let everything blow over like it usually does. Maybe—no, surely—this attraction is just a passing trend.

  


* * *

  


After a week, the passing attraction is still yet to pass and Hajime's anxiety levels are through the roof because of it. It manifests as an annoying voice at the back of his mind, occasionally whispering silly things such as _Man, does Oikawa's ass look hot in those shorts._ or _Damn, Oikawa's legs are fucking amazing._ or _Have Oikawa's eyes always looked that stunning?_ Hajime could go on for _hours_ about all the things he'd call himself dumb for noticing just now.

At least he isn't majorly fucking practice up. The disaster of the first practice after The Dream is gone. It's been replaced by the usual excellent performance, bringing relief to everyone in the court. If Hajime sometimes spikes too aggressively, blame it on the voice at the back of his mind.

Still, the fact that that tragedy of a practice ever happened to someone as dependable as Hajime is bothering the person who he thinks is the cause of all this. This Hajime knows and is apprehensive about. Oikawa may stay silent about an issue for a long time but that doesn't mean he hasn't filed it away for later inspection in the galaxy of his mind.

  


* * *

  


It's late into the night when Hajime's phone rings. The screen displays one of exactly 1,783 (Hajime has checked before) selfies that Oikawa has taken usen his phone. Hajime would never admit it out loud, but Oikawa looks alluring in this one. His smile is headache-inducing in its luminosity. Or maybe that's just the screen. Well, Hajime's pretty sure it's because of the smile.

_Incoming call from Dumbass Oikawa,_ the text below the picture reads. Declining seems auspicious but of course, Hajime doesn't. He's never had much self-control when it comes to Oikawa. Plus, in the off-chance that this is actually important, he'll certainly regret rejecting the call.

"What do you want, Assikawa?" Hajime groans into the phone. "It's three in the fucking morning, speak now or I'm hanging the hell up."

"My, my, someone's got a temper. " Oikawa replies, sing-song and sounding wide-awake. "I didn't know you could get any grumpier, Iwa-chan. Maybe you aren't really going to listen to me… Should I—"

"Yeah, yeah, you fucking know I listen to all your crap, just get to the damn point already." He already dreads hearing about what made Oikawa call at this time of day, fears he's not ready for it, but then again, when has he ever been ready for anything Oikawa did?

"I had a dream about you," whispers Oikawa in a raspy voice that has Hajime imagining awful things. Hajime is right, he definitely isn't ready for this. But even so, he steels himself for the terror that may spring from Oikawa's mouth.

Rather dimly, Oikawa continues, "A-and… It was weird." It's not like Oikawa to hem and haw about the things he says. He's learned quickly enough that he could get away with saying almost anything to almost anyone by virtue of his pretty face and confident voice. The hesitation in it right now is making Hajime's skin crawl.

"Why?"

"Because…" Oikawa huffs a nervous laugh. "Uh, how do I say this. Okay, just to be very, _very_ euphemistic, it involved you and me in a—what you would call a compromising situation."

Silence except for the crackle of static in the background is all Hajime can hear as he digests the information.

_You and me. Compromising situation._ Could this mean what Hajime thinks it does? Or is he being very dense here and maybe sexual situations aren't the sort of compromising situations Oikawa dreams about. Knowing him, _compromising_ could very well mean getting caught in the middle of a Martian alien war or something. He presses for details.

"Well—ugh, Ha—Iwa-chan, do you really need to _ask_?" Oikawa says but Hajime's too distracted by that one syllable and the tinge of second thought in Oikawa's voice to notice.

Did Oikawa almost call him by his given name? And what compromising situation could have Oikawa struggling to put his thoughts into words?

"Iwa-chan. Hey, Iwa-chan. Iwa- _chaaan_. Are you still there?"

"Yeah, still here. Sorry, I kind of fell asleep."

"Okay, so, the details." Oikawa takes a deep breath, as if preparing himself for what would happen next. _"Idreamtaboutyouandmehavingsexandpleasepleasedon'tkillme."_

"Could you slow down a bit?" Hajime asks like he hasn't already turned that garbled jumble of a sentence several times over in his head in the span of a second.

"I said," Oikawa begins and he's positively hyperventilating now, "I dreamt about you and me having _sex_ and please, please don't kill me, Iwa-chan, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to happen—and anyway, why the hell would I mean something like _that_ to happen, it just did happen, oh God, oh fuck, I'm _sorry_ —"

Hajime has to laugh at Oikawa's blubbering, but his heart is beating fiercely in its cage, his mind is going a mile a minute, and his lungs are in the middle of collapsing just about now. He is going to _die_ , that much is certain, die because of this. When he next speaks, his voice is too calm for someone who's just had a near death experience. "Did you really… Well, have a dream about that?" Hajime asks, still not believing it.

"Yeah."

"So does this mean you're, uh, into boys or something?" Hajime's asking this because he's really unsure; sometimes Oikawa flirts with boys, but then again, Oikawa flirts with anything that _breathes,_ and just because he flirts with boys, that doesn't mean he likes boys _that_ way.

"I don't know, you tell me!" Oikawa chuckles feebly, like he's too tired to make a joke, given the situation and the time of day. "Haha. Ha. Maybe. I guess. Yes."

"Oh." Hajime says, because there's nothing really more appropriate to say at this time. He's kind of shocked but that's only because he hasn't really considered Oikawa being gay or bisexual or anything. But it's not like he cares at all. Even then, what do you say after you accidentally make your best friend confess about his sexuality? Hajime thinks that sorry doesn't quite cut it.

He settles for a question. "Wait, Oikawa, why're you even telling me this?"

"Er, I don't know—it seemed like a good idea?" Oikawa replies, his voice growing quiet. "So. Yeah."

"Uh-huh."

"Can we just forget this ever happened? I'm gonna hang up now. I need to change my beddings. And my boxers."

Oikawa does, even forgetting to say goodbye, leaving Hajime with the most confused boner in existence. Only pure will drives it away and tides him to sleep, but even there, he has no escape from the menace that is Oikawa Tooru.

  


* * *

  


Oikawa's not there at his usual spot next morning, much to Hajime's discomfort. He waits for five minutes until five minutes bleed into ten, then ten into fifteen, and then fifteen into thirty. Such a bout of patience from someone with as short a fuse as Hajime is nothing short of a miracle, but then again, it's Oikawa and Hajime's willing to wait a thousand years for that idiot boy.

Hajime chooses not to wait for that long for now, because if he doesn't go, he's going to be late for the morning practice and he's pretty sure Mizoguchi-san's going to tear him a new one if he gets there even just a minute late.

For the first time in ten years, Hajime walks to school alone. The morning is eerily quiet and disquietingly lonely without Oikawa beside him, mouthing off about god-knows-what.

  


* * *

  


He gets to the gym with hardly a minute to spare, and the first thing that greets him is, predictably, Mizoguchi-san's yelling. "Iwaizumi! You're almost late! Warm up now, the practice is about to begin."

"Yes, coach." Hajime replies with a respectful bow before stretching and running a lap around the court.

In no time at all, he's in Oikawa's vicinity again, but it feels stuffy somehow, like _last night_ is hanging thick in the air between them. The tension when they look at each other is palpable. Even if their play is as strong and stunning as ever, anyone looking at them, who are usually so relaxed around each other, can notice the stiffness in Oikawa's voice and the terse manner of Hajime's responses.

"Oikawa?" Hajime inquires when they're both changing in the locker room.

"Yeah?"

"Are you done yet?"

"Nah, I think I'll be here for a while more. Don't wait for me."

"Oh. Sure. Bye."

"Bye, Iwa-chan."

In the ensuing walk to first period, Hajime finds himself alone yet again. He can't exactly fault Oikawa for wanting to avoid him but he still kind of hates him for it.

Yahaba sidles up to him and asks, "Trouble in paradise, Iwaizumi-san?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Yahaba?" grouses Hajime.

All he receives is a snigger in response and Hajime tries his best not to strangle his sarcastic little kouhai.

  


* * *

  


Afternoon practice starts and ends as well as morning practice did, which is to say, good enough on the surface, but there's still something off. The rest of the team can't pinpoint what's exactly wrong, but their captain and his vice certainly can, it's just that neither are willing to tell anyone what's amiss, not now, not when the stakes are higher than ever.

Hajime maintains that this is all ultimately because of Oikawa, stupid fucking Oikawa with the rat's ass personality and the supermodel face. It's because of Oikawa that they're behind the second gymnasium at this moment, torn between wanting to talk about everything and wanting to tell themselves that nothing happened and force everything back into the way it normally was before.

"Are you avoiding me, Oikawa?" Hajime asks even if he already knows the answer. It's just that he can't find anything to say and he has to address the obvious before Oikawa is threatened by the tougher topics and wriggles away.

"Let's say I am, Iwa-chan." Oikawa says, refusing to give him a straight answer. Sometimes Hajime wishes Oikawa weren't so stubborn.

"I'll take that as a yes," Hajime says, "but why?"

"Pffft, do you even have to ask?" Oikawa says, laughing like he's heard the silliest joke ever, but his voice is quavering in the way it does when he's feeling hopeless. The dichotomy makes Hajime's head hurt; here is Oikawa, putting all his masks on again, building up all his walls again, and he can't have that. Not now.

"Oikawa, just tell me what's on your mind, I swear to god I'll do my best to listen to you. I mean, you're my best friend and all, so…"

Hajime is not prepared for this and he never will, so he figures this—behind the gym, alone, together, afternoon sunlight painting them gold—is good a moment as any. He simply braces himself for impact and counts down from ten.

Oikawa starts talking at three.

"I know you'll never feel the same way about me, and I think I'll be able to live with that fact, though only barely. And I also know I want you to be my best friend for all time, and I want to be yours too, because I know _best friends_ is all we're going to be, so I'll take it, I'll take it and be happy about it. And even if you've got a plain face and terrible eyebrows and temper problems, I really want to be with you, Iwa-chan, so please don't hate me for last night, please don't hate me for being into boys, and please don't hate me for being into _you_. I mean, it's ridiculous, I know, and—"

"What the hell, I could _never_ hate you for that! Why would I, anyway? But are you confessing to me?" Hajime asks, then shakes his head at himself, because of all the questions he's supposed to be asking, that one shouldn't have gotten priority.

"For all intents and purposes, yes." Oikawa grins, lopsided and weak.

"Well, you didn't have to." Hajime hates his mouth for saying the things it does.

"Iwaizumi Hajime, are you rejecting _me?_ " Oikawa's voice rises hysterically at that.

"Fuck no!" yells Hajime. "You didn't have to because I pretty much feel the same way, I guess."

"Nice joke, Iwa-chan. You're messing with me, aren't you? You always tell me you hate me." Oikawa's pouting, like some sort of baby, but there's genuine hurt in his words and he _hates_ hearing it.

"And do I ever mean it? Hell, I don't!"

"You love me?"

"Since when did I not?"The words are out before Hajime can even process them and _this is the worst, it's even more embarrassing than his dream and Oikawa's dream_ combined.

"…I guess I could say the same about you, Iwa-chan."

It's silent except for the sound of the wind and the rustle of the grass. But the silence is peaceful, it's something they know. It's not the heavy silence with the air drained of oxygen, not the silence that makes people break down. Oikawa's grinning now and it's a real one, a marked change from the fake smile he was wearing earlier. Hajime can't help but feel that this whole love business should be more trouble than this, but it turns out it's not actually that difficult. It's just the two of them, standing behind the second gymnasium, glowing with the happiness that comes from split-second revelations like _Oikawa loves him_ and _he loves Oikawa_ , and that maybe infinities can be held in such tiny spaces, tiny spaces like those between their hands.

It's a moment of infinity in their all-too-finite lives and Hajime embraces it.

"So are you gonna ask me out or what, Iwa-chan?" Oikawa asks and he's practically shining with the way he beams at Hajime, like he's waited all his life for this moment.

"What, Oikawa," Hajime deadpans, and they share a laugh, knowing that _yes, there's going to be a date._ They don't know when yet, but Hajime thinks that it's all the more an adventure because of that.

"That's _mean,_ Iwa-chan," Oikawa huffs. "Although I suppose I should be calling you Hajime now."

Hajime snorts at that. "If you know what's good for you, don't."

"Come on, Hajime, I'll even let you call me Tooru!" Oikawa—no, he's Tooru to him now, should have been Tooru to him a long time ago—says.

"Fine, if it'll get you to shut up about it, _Tooru_." Hajime mutters but he's smiling and his heart's so full it feels like exploding.

  


* * *

  


_omake 01_

They're studying in Hajime's room for a grueling Chemistry quiz when he remembers about the girl.

"Hey, Tooru, didn't you have a date last month?" Hajime asks, absently thumbing the corner of his Chemistry workbook.

"Huh? Did I?" Tooru says. He honestly can't remember anyone, so there mustn't be anyone remarkable.

"You know, that Ishihara girl, class five, red hair?" It's kind of funny that Hajime remembers more about the girl than Tooru does.

Tooru laughs. "Oh, her? Who?"

"You are the worst, Tooru."

"You love the worst, Hajime."

  


* * *

  


_omake 02_

"So you're finally dating now, huh?" Hanamaki asks Hajime just as they're doing their cooldown from a practice match with Johzenji. They were such a wildcard team, unpredictable and deadly, but Seijoh still won.

"Hrm?" Hajime replies intelligently because he can't believe Hanamaki knows, not when he hasn't even told anyone yet.

"Relax, Iwaizumi, we're not going to bite your head off for dating Oikawa." Hanamaki says and Hajime feels light with relief. "But Mattsun owes me profiteroles, and lots of them."

"Huh? Why?" Hajime asks.

"He lost the bet." Hanamaki says with a funny grin. "I bet that you and Oikawa would start dating within this year, but he bet that you two'd do it in college."

"What the hell, Makki!"

  


* * *

  


_omake 03_

Seijoh and Karasuno have a practice match together but all Hinata can focus on is the way the Grand King and his ace are standing so close to each other. They're way closer now, like Daichi-san and Suga-san close, and it's making him feel weirdly jealous.

"Say, Kageyama, are the Grand King and Seijoh's ace _dating?_ " Hinata whispers before Kageyama's even leaned down, so naturally, the latter doesn't hear him.

"What?" Kageyama hisses back.

"I SAID, ARE THE GRAND KING AND SEIJOH'S ACE DATING?" Hinata practically screams at him.

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW, DUMBASS HINATA, ASK THEM!" Kageyama shouts right back.

People are staring. Daichi looks downright murderous as he scolds them and makes them run an extra lap each.

On the other side of the court, Tooru and Hajime are laughing.

"Oh dear, it seems like we've been caught." Tooru says, winking at Hajime.

"That wouldn't have happened if you weren't hanging off me like the monkey you are, Tooru." Hajime frowns like he's actually got something to be displeased about, but he smiles all the same.


End file.
